


You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet

by its-eggplant (webofdreams89)



Series: Fire of Unknown Origin [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost everyone is American, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, American Harry Potter, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hunter Harry Potter, Hunter Weasley Family, Indian Harry Potter, It just fits with the story better, M/M, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Person of Color Harry Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Raise Harry Potter, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webofdreams89/pseuds/its-eggplant
Summary: This is it, Harry thought. This is how I die.-Or how George saved Harry and Harry fell in love.
Relationships: Harry Potter/George Weasley
Series: Fire of Unknown Origin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940413
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Though I haven't watched Supernatural in ages, I thought it would make a good world to throw Harry Potter characters into. So here's the first installment in the series. Like Harry Potter and Supernatural, but much gayer.
> 
> Also, the show is set in the United States because 1) I thought it would mesh with the Supernatural universe more and 2) I'm from the US so it's a lot easier for me that way lol.
> 
> The title comes from Bachman-Turner Overdrive's song of the same name.
> 
> Anyway, Fuck TERFs.

_ This is it, _ Harry thought. _ This is how I die _ .

The vampire, a white blonde woman who’d been around thirty when she’d turned, stood about ten feet away from Harry. Inhaling deeply, a look of pure bliss on her face, she said, “God, you smell so  _ sweet _ .”

A shiver ran down Harry’s back, and not the good kind. “Sorry, lady,” he grumbled, grimacing as his temple gave a particularly intense throb, “but I don’t swing that way.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Ew, dude. Gross. I’m going to suck your blood, not your cock.”

“Hey!” Harry protested. “More than once I’ve been told I’m quite good looking. Granted, most of them were just trying to get into my pants at the time, but I’m sure at least a few of them really meant it.”

She made a face. “Like I said, ew.”

“Well, thank god for small favors,” Harry muttered to himself. “You’re not that great to look at either.”

He felt fresh blood trickle from his temple to the crest of his cheekbone. She traced the line of blood, and she licked her lips.

The vampire had whacked him outside his hotel room. Harry was about to get on his bike when she appeared out of nowhere. Less than a second passed between seeing her and the pain that exploded in his head. Then he woke up there. Wherever  _ there _ was.

Based on the thick layers of dust and the old timey farmer-chic decor, Harry had to guess he was in an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town. 

His friend Hermione, a Person of Letters from England, was the one who’d passed along the case along two him: the two drained bodies reported in Jackson, a town of about 6,000 in southern Ohio. It took Harry about five seconds to at look the info Hermione had sent and decide that yep, there was about a 98 percent chance vampires were somehow involved.

Harry had been visiting his godfathers and, like any other case, he bid them farewell (“You know the drill, kid! Come back in one piece, or I’ll kill you myself.”) and rolled into Jackson twelve hours later. He checked into the nearest shitty motel, traded his leather jacket for a blazer, and conned his way into the morgue. Sure enough, the bodies were pale as ghosts, each with two small puncture wounds.

With some time to kill, Harry napped until dusk and left his room to do a little recon.

Which brought him to his current predicament: wounded and tied to a chair in a dusty old house with a vampire licking her chops. 

He cursed himself for getting so easily caught and sighed.  _ This is it. This is how I die. _

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” a voice called from the doorway. 

Okay, so in his delirium, he must have said that out loud. Oops.

Harry’s eyes widened as two identical, hot (like  _ really _ hot) redheaded men entered the room. One wore an old tan Carhartt and the other a faded denim jacket. Relief washed through Harry at the sight of them. 

“Oh, thank fucking god!” 

The blonde frowned and turned her attention to the twins, eyes narrowed at the weapons in their hands. Carhartt had a crossbow, bolts presumably dipped in Deadman’s Blood, while Jean Jacket wielded a machete. 

It made Harry really miss his own machete. He just hoped the vampire hadn’t tossed it when she kidnapped him.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. The vampire chose flight and turned on her heel for the door. Carhartt released a slew of bolts, catching her in the back. It stopped her in her tracks. Lightning quick, Jean Jacket whipped his machete at her. It sunk through her neck and she slumped to the floor. Carhartt darted forward and wrenched the machete from her neck, spraying blood everywhere. He brought it down and severed her head. It wobbled at his feet.

“Yuck,” he said, toeing it away.

Jean Jacket’s boots fell heavily on the wooden floors as he walked to Harry. Harry gulped. With sky blue eyes, a light dusting of freckles, broad shoulders, and a wicked smile, Jean Jacket was even hotter up close. 

Harry just hoped he didn’t get a stiffy right then and there.

“Hiya, handsome,” Jean Jacket said. “You’re gonna need some stitches on that wound.”

Carhartt snorted. “C’mon, George, give the man a breather before you turn on the charm. He almost got eaten by a vampire.”

“My bad,” George said, chuckling. He pulled a knife from his boot and began slicing through Harry’s binds. It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said faintly. “I really don’t mind.”

George’s grin widened. “Really?” he asked. His eyes raked down Harry’s body as he helped him stand.

“Really.”

*

The twins drove Harry back to the motel. It turned out they were staying just two doors down from Harry and had actually witnessed his kidnapping. They even found his machete under his bike and returned it to him.

“So we just followed you,” the other twin, who’d introduced himself as Fred, said.

“Lucky for me,” Harry said. “It’s been awhile since someone’s managed to get the drop on me like that.”

George sat on the bed next to Harry, a suture kit spread out next to him. His hands were gentle as he cleaned Harry’s wound, softer than anyone had touched Harry in a long time. Despite the very  _ un _ sexy nature of George’s touch, it still made Harry shiver. In the good way this time.

Fred handed Harry several fingers of whiskey and he gulped it down in preparation for the needle.

“Thank god that wasn’t the good stuff,” George quipped. “You drank it like a heathen.”

“I’d only be a heathen if it  _ had _ been the good stuff I chugged,” Harry retorted.

George smirked. “Fair enough.”

“So you’re Harry Potter, right?” Fred asked. He sat on the other bed, his own glass of whiskey in his hand.

Harry’s eyes flickered over to him. “How’d you know that?” Harry asked, wincing as the needle pierced his skin on the first stitch.

Fred snorted. “No offense man, but everyone’s heard the stories about that scar on your forehead.” 

Harry winced again, though this time it had nothing to do with the pain. Physical pain at least.

George seemed to pick up on Harry’s unease, and said, “Our brother and sister mentioned you. Said you worked a case together.” 

Despite the pain, Harry found it difficult to concentrate with George so close, close enough to feel his breath on Harry’s cheek. Between the whiskey, the pain, and George’s proximity, thinking felt like wading through mud. Then his mind latched on to the two redheads from the tulpa case in Indiana.

“Ron and Ginny?” he asked.

George smiled fondly. “That’s them. They said you were a big help.”

Harry smiled. “I liked working with them.” By now, his temple was so numb that he hardly felt the next stitch.

“Ginny is fast as hell and Ron’s got one of the most strategic brains I’ve ever seen,” Fred admitted. “Just don’t tell them I said that, got it?”

Harry frowned. “Is this a sibling thing?” he asked. “Sibling rivalry and whatnot?”

Chuckling, George said, “Yeah, basically. It  _ always _ is when you’re one of seven. I take it you’re an only child then?”

“Yeah, though I did grow up with my cousin,” he replied, thinking back to the terrible childhood he was still struggling in coming to terms with. “Though my aunt and uncle treated me more like their live-in servant than their nephew.”

“Yikes,” Fred said. He poured a bit more whiskey into Harry’s glass. Harry hummed in agreement.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

After Harry’s head wound was taken care of, George checked Harry for a concussion. “Thankfully, it doesn’t look like you have one.”

Nodding, Harry thanked him. “Are you a paramedic or something?” he asked.

Fred reached forward and proudly patted George’s knee. “He sure is.”

George rolled his eyes. “Someone needed first aid training with how often you all were getting hurt.”

Harry drank another glass of whiskey with them before excusing himself for the night. He was exhausted. 

“Why don’t you join us for breakfast in the morning?” George asked. He wore a faint flush high on his cheeks.

Warmth spread through Harry. “I’d like that.” They exchanged phone numbers and Harry promised to text when he woke up.

Breakfast was a lively affair. It didn’t take long for Harry to learn that, while huge jokesters, Fred and George were whip smart. The arsenal, complete with many of their own weapons inventions, was incredible.

“My godfathers would drool over this,” Harry said in awe. 

George snorted. “We always love hearing that we make middle aged men drool.”

Fred slapped George on the shoulder. “Georgie hear might like to hear it,” he said.

Harry pulled a face, glancing at George. “Well, if my godfathers ever do drool over you and you  _ like it _ , please for the love of god, keep it to yourself.”

They both laughed. “Fair enough,” George said. “Though I’m not really into older men.”

After breakfast, Harry and George lingered by Harry’s bike. “I’d like to thank you again for saving my life last night.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be saving each other a few times in the future too.”

Laughing, Harry said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Wearing a sheepish expression, George said, “You know, you’re an interesting one, Harry Potter.”

Usually when someone said something like that to Harry, it was because he survived a brutal demon attack when he was a baby. But he didn’t think that was what George meant. The thought warmed him.

“I think you’re very interesting too, George Weasley,” Harry admitted. “And I can’t wait to find out if I’m right or not.”

*

After that, they kept running into each other on hunts. A haunting in Indianapolis, another vampire in the suburbs of Detroit, a ghoul in Kenosha. And they texted each other constantly, occasionally calling each other and talking for hours late into the night.

“What’s got you so distracted lately?” his godfather Sirius asked during one of Harry’s visits.

“I think you mean  _ who _ ,” Remus retorted.

“How’d you know?” Harry asked, frowning. “I haven’t said anything about liking anyone.”

Remus rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Harry, we’ve been there for every crush you’ve ever had.”

Harry laughed. “Fair enough.” Then he admitted, “His name is George Weasley. I met him a few months ago on a hunt.”

Sirius’ eyes filled with glee. “He’s the one who saved you from that vampire, isn’t you?”

Harry nodded. “Him and his brother.”

“Weasley, huh?” Remus asked. “That’s a good family.”

“It is. I met their brother and sister on a hunt last year too. I like them.”

“Well, Harry,” Sirius began, “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve heard this, but Remus and I here just want you to be happy. If this George makes you happy, then you should go for it.”

*

Harry only got further confirmation when he met up with the Weasley twins in a small town about 45 south of Chicago. The three of them were hanging out in the twins’ motel room, drinking a few beers and shooting the shit. 

When George got up to use the restroom, Fred leaned in toward Harry and said, “Hey, Harry, I’m getting pretty hungry. What do you say we head out for some grub when Freddie’s done in the bathroom.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, a deep frown marring his face. “You and Fred, huh?” he asked. Looking away, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know  _ you’re _ Fred. I’m just not sure why you’re trying to trick me into thinking you’re George.”

Fred smiled, not looking the least big repentant. “I just had to be sure, alright?”

“Sure of what?”

Fred leaned back in his chair and fidgeted with his beer bottle. “Harry, a lot of people think George and I just two versions of the same person. I had to be sure you were different, that you didn’t think like that too.”

“I still don’t understand,” Harry admitted, though he felt a bit calmer

In a quiet voice, Fred said, “George likes you. A lot. And I think you like him too. But I had to be sure that you really liked  _ him _ . I won’t apologize for that. He’s had his hearts broken too many times.”

Harry sighed but it wasn’t in frustration. It was relief. It was a relief to hear, according to Fred, that George at least returned some of the feelings Harry felt for him. 

“You’re protective of him.”

“Yeah, I am. Of all my siblings, but especially of George.” Shrugging, Fred said, “He’s my twin, and everyone thinks he’s just a giant goofball. They think he’s a lot more forward than he is. George is a flirt, but he’s actually pretty shy when it comes to matters of the heart. If he likes you, it’ll probably take him at least a year to make a move.”

“I really like him too,” Harry admitted.

“I was pretty sure you did. If you want to be with him, you’re going to have to make a move unless you feel like waiting another ten months.”

Harry grinned widely, feeling a bit punch-drunk. “I think I can manage that.” 

Fred hummed in response. 

A flare of insecurity shot through him. “You think he really likes me?”

Fred groaned. “Positive,” he said. “It’s always  _ Harry this _ and  _ Harry that _ and  _ look what Harry texted me, isn’t he just hilarious? _ You’re a good guy, Harry, but I’m frankly, sick and tired of hearing about you.”

Feeling a bit giddy, Harry said, “I’d say sorry, but I’m really not.”

“Ha! Yeah, I can’t imagine you are.”

*

Thinking about Fred’s words, about how if Harry wanted anything with George, he would have to make the first move, Harry asked on their next hunt, “Would you like to grab a drink with me?” 

The smile George gave him was breathtaking. “Yeah,” he said in a soft voice. “I’d really like that.”

“So how did your family get into this business? Ron and Ginny never said,” Harry said when they settled at a small table away from the bar’s other patrons.

Glancing down into his glass, George looked sad. When he looked back up, his lovely blue eyes meeting Harry’s, he said, “My brother Bill was attacked by a werewolf. Not even a repentant one either. This bastard bit him on purpose. Some of us sort of took up the cause after that.”

Harry felt cold. “Wouldn’t happen to Fenrir Greyback, would it?” he asked.

George’s face darkened. “Have some experience with him, have you?”

“Something like that,” he replied, sighing. After sipping his bourbon, Harry added, “I’ve never had the displeasure of meeting him, but I know of him. He’s the one that bit one of my godfathers. He was only a little boy at the time.”

“If your godfather had the chance to grow up and actually  _ become _ your godfather, I take it he’s still alive then?”

Harry’s body tensed up.  _ Shit _ . He really hadn’t meant to bring Remus up. He was normally so careful, not wanting to divulge the fact that he was a hunter,  _ knew _ a werewolf, and let him live. But George already had a way of getting past Harry’s defenses. And he was so damned easy to talk to.

Not knowing what to say, Harry didn’t say anything.

“It’s okay, Harry. I won’t tell anyone,” George said quietly. He reached across the table and grabbed Harry’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. There was no way the simplest touch from George should have made his cock twitch, made Harry imagine all sorts of things those hands could do to Harry, but it did.

George went on. “Bill is still alive too. We lock him up each full moon.”

Harry let himself relax and released a deep breath. “We do the same,” he admitted. “My other godfather and me. We stand guard to make sure he doesn’t get out.” Needing for George to know, Harry said, “Remus is a good man, the best I know. He’s never hurt anyone and doesn’t deserve to die because of who he is.”

“No, he doesn’t,” George replied. Giving him a small smile, he added, “Bill is the same way. He’s the best brother a guy could ask for.”

They both ordered another drink and chatted for a while longer. It was near eleven when they walked back to the motel, lingering outside of Harry’s door. 

“I had a really good time tonight,” George said. He stood close enough to Harry that he could feel his body heat.

Biting his lip, Harry steeled his courage and said, “The night doesn’t have to be over yet.”

“Yeah?” George asked. Harry nodded. “I’d like that.”

The second the door was locked behind them, George was  _ there _ , pulling Harry into a deep kiss, lips pressing against lips and hands seeking skin. George’s soft lips pressing firm, it was a good kiss, probably the best Harry’d ever had. It probably helped that it was  _ George _ he was kissing, a man he liked beyond reason despite not knowing him all that long.

When George pulled away a few moments later, breathless, he said, “Before we go any further, I need to say something: I’ve never met anyone like you before, Harry. I really like you. And if all you’re interested in is a one-off, that’s fine, but please tell me now because I’d like more than that.”

A swooping sensation shot through Harry’s gut, and he smiled. “I really like you too, George. I’m  _ definitely _ interested in seeing where things go between us.” 

George grinned, wide and beautiful enough to tug at Harry’s heart, and pulled Harry in for another devastating kiss.

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he was so hard, felt so desperate for someone. Maybe he never had. George seemed to be bringing out a lot in Harry, new things, incredible things that Harry wanted more of.

Unconsciously, Harry’s hips thrust forward, his hard cock grinding against George’s. It was so good feeling George hard against him, the rough push of hips and hard press of his fingertips into Harry’s skin. 

His hands left Harry’s hips and slid around to find his ass. George squeezed his cheeks hard enough to make Harry moan. Breaking the kiss, George leaned down to press his lips to Harry’s ear, licking the shell and planting a small kiss there. Breath hot on Harry’s skin, he asked, “What do you want, Harry?”

Opening his mouth, Harry tried to verbalize exactly what he wanted to do with George, what he’d been imagining for weeks now, but his brain had short circuited. “I-I want…”

“C’mon, Harry,” George urged, pulling his face back to look into Harry’s eyes. For all his teasing, George’s eyes were blown wide and he looked just as desperate as Harry felt. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you anything.”

Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut just to gain enough composure to give his answer. “I want you to fuck me right into the mattress, George.”

“Oh, fuck,” George said, his hips thrusting forward yet again. “Yeah, I want that too. Please, please let me fuck you.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “yeah, I want it.” He backed up far enough to slide his leather jacket from his shoulders and to the floor. Harry pulled his shirt off next and grabbed George’s hand, pulling him to the bed. 

Once there, Harry sat on the edge and made quick work of his boots and tossed them aside. George followed suit, discarding both his jacket and black boots in seconds.

Harry turned to George and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him back in for another searing kiss. He swung his leg over George’s thighs to straddle him and rutted down, drawing a loud groan from George.

“God, Harry…”

Harry’s hands slipped under George’s shirt and up his chest, exploring the ridges of his abs, his pink, pink nipples, and the light dusting of auburn hair on his chest. George writhed beneath him, his hands moving over Harry’s hips and thighs. George grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head. He tossed it aside. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry said, staring openly at George’s body. “I thought that the first second I saw you.”

George chuckled. “Harry, you were tied to a chair, had a head wound, and were about to be eaten by a vampire and  _ that’s _ what you thought the first time you saw me?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, that and I hoped I didn’t die because I really wanted to kiss you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” George said breathlessly. He wound his arms around Harry’s lower back and rolled them over so he was on top, Harry’s legs splayed wide around his hips. 

His lips and fingers traced Harry’s many scars scattered across his arms and chest and stomach. A round oval scar high on Harry’s chest. “A cursed locket,” Harry said when George kissed it. “Bitten by a basilisk,” Harry said about the round puncture scar on his arm. When George kissed the long, thin scars on Harry’s side, he gritted his teeth and said simply, “My uncle.” 

“Your uncle?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gulping, Harry nodded. He felt bad about putting a damper on the mood. But if George wanted to be with him, he needed to  _ know _ these things about Harry. “I went to live with my mom’s sister and her husband after my parents were killed. It was awful. I ran away when I was ten, found my godfathers, and lived with them ever since.”

“I’m glad you did,” George said quietly, kissing the scars again.

“Me too.” Grabbing the back of his neck, Harry drew George in for a heated kiss. “But we can talk about that later. I can think of better things to do right now.”

Voice breathy, George replied, “Yeah, I can too.” 

“Lube and condoms are inside my bag,” Harry said, nodding to the backpack on the ugly chair by the window. George leapt up and riffled through it until he found the lube and condoms. Tossing them on the bed, he saw that Harry had taken the opportunity while George was up to move back on the bed so his head was near the headboard.

George rejoined Harry, sliding between his legs once again, a place that had quickly become his favorite place on earth. He drew him in for another kiss, his hands skimming down Harry’s sides and to his belt. George made quick work of it and moved on to Harry’s fly. Jeans and boxers joined their T-shirts on the floor.

“Fuck,” George said as he sat back on his haunches, taking in the entire picture before him. He knew that Harry was beautiful and had a great body, but seeing it first hand was even better, more overwhelming, than he could have imagined. He told Harry so, making the other man shiver and flush.

“Jesus, George,” he whined. “Are you trying to make me come so soon?”

“It wouldn’t matter,” George replied. “I see a long night ahead of us. You’d have plenty of time to recuperate and have another when I’m inside of you.”

Harry shivered again. “Oh fuck,” he said. “Hurry up, George. C’mon, I need you.”

Chuckling, George pulled him in for another kiss. “No way,” he murmured. “I plan to take my time with you tonight, Harry Potter.”

Harry whined again, then whined louder when George started to kiss his way down his body. He licked a stripe up Harry’s cock where it rested against his belly, tasting his precome, licking the small patch from Harry’s skin. 

The sound Harry made nearly made George come on the spot. He had to press the heel of his hand to his crotch to stave off orgasm. Taking Harry in his hand, he closed his lips around the head of his prick, sucking just hard enough that it made Harry’s hips leave the bed and press his cock down George’s throat. George choked, pulling back. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, his hand reaching down to caress George’s head. “Didn’t mean to.”

Laughing, George said, “My fault. I should have held your hips down.” After slicking up his fingers, George held Harry’s hips down, taking his cock into his mouth again as he eased the first finger inside him. 

Harry shouted at the intrusion, urging George on, begging him for more. “ _ Please _ ,” he cried. “Please, George.”

George pulled off Harry’s cock with a loud  _ pop _ . “I told you I was taking my time with you and that’s exactly what I plan to do. Just lie back and enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Harry said, his chest heaving. “Okay, I’ll try to.”

Patting Harry’s hip, George said, “Good boy.” It made Harry sharply inhale.

“Oh,” George said, his mind racing. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

Harry nodded, slightly embarrassed. “I never have in the past. What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

George had a speculative look on his face. “So what was it you liked? The praise?”

Nodding, Harry replied, “Yeah, I think so. I think I like when you do that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a smile. Then he got back to business, sliding two fingers into Harry’s ass and a third when Harry was ready for it.

George shucked his jeans and boxers and grabbed a condom, quickly rolling it on. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.

Harry didn’t even need to think about it. “Like this,” he said. “I want to be able to see you.”

George’s breath caught. He’d hoped Harry wanted to fuck in that position, but hearing him say it aloud was devastating in the best possible way. He grabbed a knee in each hand and spread Harry’s legs as wide as they could go. Slicking himself up, George teased Harry’s entrance a few times before slowly pressing in. Harry was tight, so tight, and George worried he might come too soon. Not that anyone could blame him; George had barely pressed inside and Harry already felt like a vice around his cock.

Harry groaned at the intrusion. Sure, it had been awhile since he’d bottomed with anyone, but he used his toy often enough that it didn’t matter so much on that front. Of course, George sliding deeper and deeper inside him felt far better than any toy could ever hope to.

“God, Harry, you feel so good,” George murmured.

“Tell me,” Harry moaned. “Please.”

“You’re tight around my cock, so hot it’s almost like you’re burning me up. I’ve never felt anything like you,” George replied honestly.

Harry bit his lip to keep from sobbing. “Hey,” George said, “it’s okay. Let me hear you. I want to know that you feel good.”

Nodding, Harry raised his hips and George slipped a little deeper. In unison, they groaned, relishing the feeling. Then George withdrew a little and pushed back in. This time, Harry didn’t hold back the sound George elicited, letting him know just what he was doing to Harry.

It wasn’t long before George worked up to a steady, moderate pace. It felt great, but what Harry wanted at the moment was  _ more _ . “Harder,” he begged, his fingers digging into George’s hips. “Faster.”

George had planned to draw it out, but he’d been on edge even before he buried himself inside Harry. “Yeah, okay,” he said, slamming hard into Harry’s ass. “I can do that.”

“Fuck!” Harry said, his hands going from George’s hips to his back. As George picked up the pace, all Harry could do was hold on and just take it. “God, yes, George, I love it!”

George could feel his orgasm build and grabbed Harry’s neglected cock, pumping it with his hand. After only a handful of strokes, Harry came, his ass squeezing tight around George. It was enough to send George over the edge.

George’s arms gave out and he slumped onto Harry. “Oof!”

“Sorry,” George mumbled into Harry’s neck, pressing a kiss there. “You really took it out of me.”

“S’okay,” he said, rubbing George’s sweat-dampened back. “I don’t mind.”

A few minutes later, George rolled off Harry and headed to the bathroom. “Be right back,” he said. Harry heard the telltale sounds of George getting rid of the condom and the faucet. George walked out of the bathroom wiping the come from his stomach. He carefully cleaned it from Harry as well. He got back in bed and cuddled up to Harry.

“That was wonderful,” he said just as Harry’s anxiety began to build, making him wonder if George had actually enjoyed himself. George must have seen the worry on his face because he cupped Harry’s cheek in his palm and pecked him on the lips. “ _ You _ were amazing.”

Harry’s stomach unclenched. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “You were too.” He smiled sweetly at George.

George bit his lip before he asked, “So, do you want to give this a shot? Give us a shot?” 

“I want nothing more,” Harry admitted. He wasn’t at all ashamed. He wanted George, wanted him something fierce. 

The smile that spread across George’s face was even more beautiful than before. Harry knew it wouldn’t be long before he fell head over heels in love with this man. Hell, maybe he already was.

Neither of them got much sleep that night.

*

They awoke to pounding on the door. Harry could see light streaming in through the thin curtains and really didn’t want to get up.

“Hey, lovebirds, it’s time to wake up!” Fred called.

“Fuck off!” George growled at his brother and pulled the covers up over his head.

“It’s nearly time to checkout, asshole!”

Grumbling to himself, George pulled the covers back down and found Harry staring at him with a smile on his face. “Good morning,” Harry said. He looked rumpled and gorgeous with pillow creases on his cheek and his hair in disarray. He must have felt just as besotted with George because he just kept grinning.

“Good morning,” Harry said.

“Morning,” George murmured, leaning in for a kiss. George  _ must _ have really liked him if he was willing to give him a morning breath kiss after only a first date.

“Georgie!” Fred whined from outside. “I want breakfast!”

They both chuckled. “I am pretty hungry after last night,” Harry admitted.

“And early this morning,” George added, waggling his eyebrows.

“And early this morning,” he repeated

“Georgie!” Fred called again.

“Christ, I’ll be over in just a sec!”

“Fine! But hurry up! Oh, by the way, good morning Harry! You’re welcome to come to breakfast too!”

“Morning, Fred! I’d love to,” Harry yelled. 

“Shut the fuck up!” a voice yelled from the next room.

They both laughed.

Harry snickered. “You and Fred are hilarious, you know.”

“You only say that because you’re an only child,” George said, pulling Harry closer.

“Maybe,” Harry said. “But I know you love your siblings.”

“Yeah,” George admitted, “I’d do anything for them.”

“I know. That’s one of the things I really like about you. Your big heart.”

George pouted. “I thought it was my big dick you liked.”

“That too.”

Eventually, they rolled out of bed and hopped in the shower together. They probably should have showered separately because they ended up making out before rutting against each other until they came.

By the time they got dressed and Harry had packed up his few belongings, Fred was in a mood. “I can’t believe you’d try to come between me and food, Georgie,” Fred pouted while they went to check out.

“I’m not too worried,” George said. “You aren’t  _ Ron _ .”

Harry shuddered. “I had dinner with them when we worked a case together and I thought he was going to murder Ginny because she made him wait like five minutes.”

The three of them had a pleasant breakfast at the diner next door, though it was obvious both Harry and George were dreading what came next.

Afterward, George and Harry hung out their car, George with his back against his car and Harry pressed against him, arms over George’s shoulders. 

“I wish we could travel together a bit, but it’s nearly the full. I have to get back home to help my godfather,” Harry said.

“I understand. You’re a good son. I’m really gonna miss you though,” George said, pulling Harry in for another kiss.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Harry admitted. Biting his lip, he thought about how, now that he had him, he wanted to keep George around for good. “I haven’t taken any time off for ages so I think I’m going to hang around home for a bit. 

“Maybe if you guys aren’t too busy, you can come for a visit. I don’t think my godfathers will want you there for the moon, but they’re hunters so I’m sure they’d love to meet you. I think they might even know your dad.”

George grinned. “Meeting the parents already?” he asked with a laugh.

Harry felt himself blush and buried his face in George’s neck. “Something like that,” he mumbled, feeling sheepish.

“Harry, how is it that I’ve had my cock in your ass but  _ this _ is what makes you blush?” George asked with wonder.

“Sex is the easy part,” Harry admitted. “Intimacy is what’s difficult. I didn’t have the best time growing up until I moved in with my godfathers, so I find anything emotional difficult to handle sometimes.”

“Like I said last night, we’re going to come back to that sometime, okay? I want to know you, both the good and that bad.” George looked so earnest that it made Harry’s chest clench.

Harry nodded. “I want to know you too, George. More than I’ve ever wanted to know anyone.”

They shared a few more kisses before George and Fred got in their car. Harry watched them go. Then he walked over to his bike and hopped on. 

It was time to head home.


End file.
